The best Spanish language lab you will ever find is on the five Mexican stations on your television set—before you order cable. The specific programs are called telenovelas or soap operas, as we know them. In Canada, we have a satellite dish and are able to get Telelatino, a channel where I found a number of telenovelas. Gata Salvaje—Wild Cat, was one of the longest running ones we watched religiously, at five o’clock, Monday through Friday. God help the person who knocked at the door during that time. I even started telling people we had Spanish classes at five on weekdays and couldn’t possibly meet anyone during that time. In the beginning, my husband Rick, who had a basic understanding of Spanish, needed me to interpret for him. But as the weeks went by, he started to understand more until now, some three or four years later, he understands most of what is being said in all Spanish programming. Often, he grew frustrated with the telenovela’s ridiculous plot development, but I assured him that it was necessary, to advance the story. What’s being said centers in the development of plots on themes of romance, jealousy, love, hatred, treachery, vengeance, murder, and deceit—all fantastically exaggerated, with a bit of humor thrown in by a token buffoon. On Gata Salvaje, a talking parrot told secrets, ratted on characters, and generally played the clown, but usually one of the maids provides comic relief. The servants in Mexican soaps, in addition to providing levity, often link the story together, sometimes with prescient and philosophical perspective. And while not all of them cast a priest into the story, there is always an altar somewhere on one of the sets. Mexican soaps can run the gamut from low-budget, all interior shots, to extravagant mansions and grounds

with a multitude of locations all suitable shots for Architectural Digest. Designer wardrobes. No one seems to work, and the women always appear at breakfast looking like they were going to a party. Formal, very well formed, and spilling, one might say—often very obviously silicon-enhanced spillage. Some people call telenovelas soft porn, but these viewers must be deaf because Mexican soaps have more dialogue than grunting and moaning and there is a very dense and layered plot line. Because they aren’t dubbed from English, the viewer can watch the movement of the lips and listen to their well-pronounced enunciation of Spanish. Spanish classes help one to learn grammar and basic pronunciation, but other than the teacher, who is a native speaker, one hears only classmates whose first language is English and often their Spanish pronunciation is poor. Other than ordering in a restaurant or functioning in the marketplace, learners don’t get an opportunity to listen to native speakers. While the language of love and all its aspects may not be relevant in everyday use, all verb tenses are used, and that is what is educational. On local stations you can find Tormenta en el Paraiso—Storm in Paradise, Palabra de Mujer—Word of a Woman, Fuego en el Sangre—Fire in the Blood which are just a few. Once you start understanding Spanish dialogue, there is a program that gives you the highlights of episodes. And when you’re standing in line at Gigante, you can browse the magazine devoted to these programs. So turn off CNN. You’re in Mexico now and as a courtesy, you should be learning to speak Spanish. Next year when you come down, consider not subscribing to cable. Five local stations will keep you informed. And you will be on your way to becoming fluent in Spanish.